Knight of Gotham: Muscle Bound
by Kuraun15
Summary: The sequel to Knight of Gotham: Laughing has its Downsides and the second book in the Knight of Gotham series. A new villain rises up from Mexico with the help from the mastermind known only as Joseph. His name is Bane. Batman must face this villain as well as White Knight, Harvey Dent's new identity, with some unexpected help. Rated T for violence and some disturbing content.
1. Chapter 1

Knight of Gotham: Muscle Bound

CHAPTER I

Bane. That was his name. Nothing more, nothing less. A boy born from rape, a single name given by his mother while dying from giving birth. Hate resided in his heart all the years he lived. He was powerful. He was intelligent. He was menacing. But still, he was not what you'd expect. Bane was only about five feet ten inches tall, with barely any build and a face void of any facial hair. At the age of 27, he was physically weaker than any other around him. But in his mind...in his mind, he was a powerhouse. He was a warrior, one like Achilles. Through his brains and persuasive power, he rose in power in Mexico. He gained respect. He killed the men who raped his mother, with one shot each, to their left eyes. He was feared. No one opposed him. No one claimed authority over him. Until he met a man named Joseph. Joseph was all he heard of the man's name. That made him even more enigmatic, and therefore more exciting. Bane was fascinated.

It started on a day like any other, doing business in his headquarters with many other associates. Guards were positioned on either side of the door, making sure no one went in or out. Or so he thought. On that day, a man with bandages over one side of his face burst through the door, shooting both guards and those at the table with Bane. He trained his gun right between Bane's eyes, beginning to flip a coin. He lowered his gun, sitting down in the chair directly opposite from Bane. He said, "Hi. My name…is Harvey Dent." He coughed for a few seconds and stopped flipping his coin. "I'm otherwise…known as White Knight," he continued. Bane asked, "What's with the bandages?" White Knight nonchalantly said, "What can I say? My razor…slips from time to time. By the way…you are, as of now, expecting a call." Two seconds later, the phone on the table rang, and White Knight answered it, putting it on speaker.

The voice that came through was saintly, yet sinister at the same time. It began, "Hello, Bane. I imagine you've already met my employee. I apologize sincerely for whatever mess he made. But I am on serious business here. I have an important proposition for you." Bane looked at White Knight, who smirked. Bane asked reluctantly, "And what exactly is this proposition you speak of?" The man said, "This proposition will give you an opportunity to greatly expand your power." Bane leaned back in his chair and said, "I'm listening." The man said, "Good. It concerns a city in America called Gotham. You've heard of it, I assume." "Yes," said Bane, "Gotham is, from what I hear, a crucial city." "Indeed," said the man, "If someone like you were to take it, to subdue it, to cripple it, then you'd have a reliable foothold in America. You could broaden your territory, and with it your influence." Bane laughed.

He said, "I understand your proposition. I also understand that Gotham is difficult to subdue." The man said, "I already have something set up to sweeten the deal." "And what would that be?" asked Bane. The man said, "It is something that will greatly increase your physical power. It is called Venom." "Well, where is it?" asked Bane, interested. The man said, "It's coming to you now." A few seconds later, the man strode through the door with a phone and a syringe full of a red liquid. He was surprisingly unassuming, probably about sixty years old, with silver hair and a grandfather-like appearance. But his eyes were strangely haunting, as if he meant to strangle you. The man said, "Oh, nearly forgot. My name is Joseph." Bane nodded. Joseph smiled and said, "This may seem a strange question, but do you have a chair that has restraints?" Bane furrowed his brow.

Bane asked, "Why would I need that?" "Because," said Joseph, "Strength like this is begotten through pain." "I've been through a substantial amount of pain in my lifetime," said Bane, "I imagine I can handle this." Joseph said, "We'll see." Bane sighed and said, "I do have such a chair, and…I assume I'll be the one restrained?" Joseph nodded and said, "Yes. Now, I'd like to finish this quickly." Bane stood up, saying, "Follow me." He led them into the back of the headquarters to a room filled with various instruments of torture, and in the middle, a chair stained with blood. The chair was much like those you would find in a dentist's office, though with the aforementioned blood and hands and feet restraints. Bane took off the jacket of his uniform, leaning back into the chair. Joseph and White Knight tied him, tightly enough that he couldn't get up.

Joseph took off the cover over the needle, testing the syringe, hovering it over Bane's arm, saying, "Are you ready?" "Just get on with it," said Bane. "A man of action," said Joseph, glancing towards White Knight, "Exactly what we need. Alright then," he continued, looking back at Bane, "Prepare yourself." Bane inhaled deeply, and Joseph pierced his arm with the syringe. Bane tensed up, feeling his muscles burn with pain like electricity. His eyes rolled back, his body convulsed and his back arched, and he began foaming at the mouth. Eventually he calmed, his eyes closing. White Knight said, "Well, looks like that didn't work." Joseph responded, "Give him a minute. I didn't come all this way for failure." Bane woke up exactly a minute later, gasping and sweating. But something felt different. He felt heavier, and the pain still coursed through his body, but it was lessened. His eyesight was fuzzy, and he was not totally aware of what had happened.

Joseph untied him, and Bane stood. He nearly fell over when he noticed that he was now six inches taller than a man he'd been two inches shorter than just a few minutes ago. He steadied himself with one hand on a desk, his eyes clearing. He glanced toward his hand, and he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was hulking, and as he ran his eyes over the rest of himself, he noticed his clothes were near the point of ripping, and his muscles and veins bulged greatly. He was about to laugh with glee when the pain swelled again. He doubled over, gasping. Joseph said, "Ah. I was afraid this would happen. But, fortunately for you, I like planning." Joseph pulled a mask that looked like a breathing apparatus out of his coat, slipping it over Bane's head. Bane breathed in, feeling the pain melt away. He looked towards the desk he had rested on, punching downward onto the top. It crumpled like a soda can under his fist.

Bane asked, "Will I need to take other injections to maintain this?" "No," said Joseph, "It's been developed as a one-use drug. You'll stay that powerful for the rest of your life." Bane laughed now, saying, "Excellent! Can I distribute this to my men?" Joseph shook his head and said, "The amount I gave to you took several months to make. This is all we can do for you." Bane felt angry for a few seconds before calming, sighing and saying, "Fine. I suppose this will suffice. With my intellect and the strength you've given me, my mission shouldn't be too difficult." Joseph said, "Well, it's time for White Knight and I to leave. Happy travels." Bane followed them back to the front of the headquarters. They walked out to a helicopter, which took off and left Bane standing at the entrance. Bane heard a click behind him. He turned around, seeing one of his men with his gun aimed at him. The soldier said, "Where's Bane?" Bane chuckled, seeing a chance to demonstrate his new powers.

Bane quickly strode to the soldier, crushing the gun. Bane laughed loudly and said, "I am Bane! And I have been given tremendous power! Bring me a tailor and a smith!" The soldier, still confused, snapped to attention and said, "Yes, sir!" Bane laughed again as the soldier scurried away. He went towards a mirror, flexing and posing in it. He stopped and felt the mask. It had already begun to feel like a part of his face. He knew that if he took it off, he'd be crippled by pain. _A small price to pay, I suppose, _thought Bane. He sat back down in the chair he'd been in before Joseph had arrived. He looked around the table, and saw that all those who White Knight had shot had been shot in the chest. Bane looked at his hands, then glanced towards one of the dead men. He walked towards him.

Bane looked at his now massive hands once more, picking up the chosen corpse by the head, lifting it from the chair. Bane took a deep breath, and, lifting the corpse even higher, he squeezed. He heard several small cracks followed by a final, massive crack, indicating the skull had been crushed. He dropped the corpse and laughed once more, and soon, the soldier returned with the tailor and smith. Immediately, the smith and tailor stared at the dead men around the table, mortified. Bane said, "Ignore them. Now…I require, as you've already realized, your particular services." The tailor gulped and said, "W-what do you need?" Bane chuckled and said, "I need a uniform that commands authority. And from you," he said, pointing to the smith, "I need you to make gauntlets." The smith, though he seemed confused, agreed, and Bane waved them off, saying, "Go on. I'll see the fruits of your labor soon." As they walked out, Bane smiled beneath his mask.

A few days later, Bane was pacing in the middle of the room, when a soldier ran in and said, "Sir! The tailor and smith are here." Bane smiled again and said, "Send them in." The tailor came in with a mannequin on a rolling platform, about Bane's size. The mannequin wore a uniform like that of a Spanish general. Along with that, a rather unexpected addition had been made. There was a black mask with red eyepieces, like a lucha wrestler's. Bane actually liked it. The tailor must've known that lucha wrestling was his favorite sport. "Your work is greatly appreciated," said Bane, "You'll receive your payment from my men, and you will remain on my payroll in case I need you again." The tailor expressed his thanks and exited. The smith came with gauntlets like that of a conquistador's. Bane put them on, telling the smith he would receive the same as the tailor. He laughed, and the soldier present said, "What now, sir?" "Now," said Bane, "we prepare for our mission."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

Meanwhile, there I was, far away from Bane, in Gotham. I had woken up that morning feeling refreshed, having had slept for a full ten hours. With the Joker locked up and the Batman running around, the criminals of Gotham had all crawled back into their individual hidey-holes. So, I figured a sabbatical could do me some good. Mind you, I wasn't shirking my responsibilities. I was only taking a one-day break. Fortunately, with the Bat-Signal, the police had a faster way to let me know about whatever was going down at the time. That, combined with adding Jim Gordon as a contact on my SG4, helped greatly. At about eleven o' clock, Dick shambled in, saying, "So, I assume no evildoer butts need to be kicked?" "Not right now," I said, taking a sip of coffee.

The TV, however, displayed something much more disheartening. It was a talk-show. And I'm not talking Dr. Phil or Oprah. This was one of those things where the infinitely annoying host ranted non-stop about something he deemed bad for the entirety of the running time. And though I said those guys are usually annoying, this guy is above the norm in that respect. The whole time, he only focused on Batman, maniacally waving his arms from time to time and letting spittle fly disgustingly onto his desk. Though they hated me, I felt sorry for his viewers. I shook my head, saying, "This is terrible." Dick laughed loudly, saying, "I don't know, man. I think this guy's pretty funny. I'd watch this just to die of laughter." He proceeded to mock the host, waving his arms and grimacing, all while yelling, "I HATE EVERYTHING! BATMAN'S A MENACE! GAS PRICES ARE TOO HIGH! MY WIFE IS TAKING ALL MY MONEY!" I grinned, realizing that Dick's imitation was actually fairly close.

Dick was still watching with a smile on his face and periodically resuming his physical caricature when I got a call from Jim. "Yeah?" I answered as Batman. Jim said, "The Joker wants to see you again." I furrowed my brow, saying, "What for?" Jim replied, "Well, he said something about 'dibs on white'." I was apparently visibly confused, and Dick said, "Is it someone asking you to buy the all-new mop slippers, or something?" "No," I said, momentarily muting my side. I put it back on, saying, "Alright, I'll be at Arkham soon." "Thanks," said Jim. I hung up, and Dick said, "Duty calls?" "No," I replied, "Don't worry about it." Laughing, Dick said, "Oh, I'm not. If it was, I'd just bring the headset in here. This is too funny to stop watching." He resumed his mockery, yelling, "CATS SHED TOO MUCH!" I smirked as I walked out the door towards the Batcave.

I got in the Batman suit, jumping in the Batmobile and driving towards Arkham. I arrived, hopping out and sending the Batmobile home. I walked in, and Jim met me at the door. He said, "He's out in the yard." I went to the yard, and I saw the Joker. He met my gaze and began walking towards me. A man who was obviously angry with me ran up and said, "You're the reason I'm in here!" He began to throw a punch, but the Joker quickly grabbed the guy's head and rammed it to his knee. The guy fell over, groaning and writhing, with a bloody mouth and nose. The Joker leaned over him and said, "Hey. Don't bother this guy. I have a very important match with him." He then walked over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder and leading me to another corner of the yard, as if we were best friends. He asked, "So, how goes it?" I was more than a little stunned. The Joker was almost…friendly.

I replied hesitantly, "Um…f-fine, I guess." The Joker laughed and said, "Look, I know we're supposed to be enemies, but how about we settle for frenemies? I have the same kind of thing going with Oswald, over there." He waved to the Penguin, yelling, "HEY, BUDDY!" The Penguin promptly shouted back, "*&#$ YOU!" The Joker sighed contentedly, saying, "Yep. Rock-solid relationship. Oh, speaking of relationships…" He held up his left hand, revealing a green wedding band on his ring finger. I stuttered, "Y-you…a-and…" "Yeah," said the Joker happily, "I am now legally married to Harleen Quinzel!" He began muttering, "Not sure about the last name, though. 'Harley Joker' doesn't really roll off the tongue well…" I nearly congratulated him. But then I realized who he was again, and regained my composure, saying, "Well, where is she?" The Joker raised his eyebrows.

He said, "Ah, she's still imprisoned at that jail for women, but we did get a great honeymoon. We went to a nice hotel. Of course, all items that had the potential to be used as weapons were removed. But still…" I was feeling slightly awkward at this point. I _really _didn't want him to go further. The Joker said, "Well, I'll spare you the details. Your micro-expressions show that you'd rather not hear it." I nodded. We kept walking, and eventually we came upon a chess set ready for a game. The Joker said, "Gordon already got the call, so you know that you're the black pieces." I nodded and said, "So this is what you meant when you said 'dibs on white'." "Indeed," he said. We began the game and a conversation. "So," said the Joker, "how's the bad-guy-catching business? Arkham has really filled up in the past few weeks." I moved, saying, "Yeah, I guess you could say business couldn't be better." The Joker laughed.

The Joker tapped his piece against the board, eventually moving and saying, "I can tell you're wondering something." I looked at him for a second. I said, "Yeah. It's just…you seem pretty resigned to Arkham. It's like you don't even care." The Joker laughed yet again and said, "Let's be honest, you _and _I haven't really ever seen me care about much, aside from my now-completed conquest. Am I right, man?" He pointed to a guard standing nearby, who said nothing. The Joker turned back to me and said, "Yeah, I'm right." I moved. The Joker said, "So, what's it like in the manor?" I froze, momentarily forgetting that he knew who I was. I snapped out of it, saying, "Good. I've gotten a chance to rest a little bit, what with all the work I've been doing. Gotham's clearing up. It's thanks in part to the Bat-signal that Jim Gordon made." The Joker moved and snapped his fingers, saying, "I heard about that. It seems that's helping you." I looked around at all the prisoners. It certainly _did _help me.

I said, "Well, it's not the only help I have. There are people around me." "Oh, really?" said the Joker, "Well, then. That makes it interesting. Of course, I don't expect you to tell me. We are frenemies, after all." I moved and said, "That thought still unnerves me." The Joker nodded and said, "Yeah, I'm sure it does." He moved, and we sat in silence for a while. His eyes locked onto mine, and I could tell he wasn't finished with what he had to say. His grin widened ever so slightly, and I was instilled with a feeling of morbid curiosity. I wondered what else he intended to say. He continued, "Keep in mind that frenemies is a combination of the words 'friends' and 'enemies'." He paused, allowing me to move. I said, "What do you mean?" "Good," said the Joker, "I've piqued your interest." I narrowed my eyes. The Joker's words were trivial to me at that point. I didn't know what he meant, though I had an idea.

The Joker moved, saying, "This will come as a surprise, but I intend to help you." I was taken aback. He and I went through another period of silence. _Surely he's not serious, _I thought. He continued, "I'm serious." I couldn't get it through my head. I asked, "But…but why? What do you stand to gain?" The Joker just stared at me and said, "Nothing. But what do I stand to gain from trying to help this Joseph guy again? I don't have any beef with anyone else here in Gotham. And besides, why not? It might be fun. It may be a little entrtaining here from time to time, but mostly, it's just boring. I need a good change of pace." I finally mustered up the strength to move, struck by what I was hearing. The Joker continued, "Look, I'll tell you about my decision. This Joseph guy? My usefulness and my willingness to _be _useful to him has run out. What has that done for me but get me here?" He moved.

I said, "I still don't get it. It doesn't make any sense for you to want to help me, of all people." The Joker nodded, saying, "True. But you know. Not a lot of what I do involves much sense." I moved, asking, "Okay. But there has to be a catch." The Joker leaned forward, saying, "Well, here are the terms. You can call me in when you need help. But there is a catch. If I know something that, if I tell you, might hinder you, I won't tell you. What I feel is relevant is what you'll hear." I felt uncomfortable with this deal. But really, it wouldn't have any ill effects. I can test him, see if he's sincere. I said, "Fine." The Joker moved and said, "Good. Checkmate, by the way." I looked at the board to discover that he had in fact beaten me. The Joker put up the chess set, saying, "Ah well, better luck next time. You'll get better. Maybe you'll beat me one day. Stranger things have happened, after all." He walked off.

I pondered the situation on the way home. The Joker's offer swirled in my head. When I reached home, I went in the Batcave, taking off the suit and heading to the manor's bar. I had been here several times throughout my journey. It was a place where I could enjoy a good drink and be alone with my thoughts, unless Dick came in, of course. I poured myself a glass of Grey Goose vodka, knocking it back and staring out the window. I didn't know what the future held for me. I was able to stay in solitude for several minutes before Dick finally invaded. He said, "Hey. NCIS: LA is about to start." I waved him off, saying, "You can start without me." "You want me to record it?" he asked. "Sure," I said. As Dick walked off, I thought about how lucky I was to have someone like him in my life. Sure, he could be annoying at times, but at others, he's really taught me. If it weren't for him, I probably would've cut myself off from the world. All this and the Joker's offer and so many other tangled thoughts went through my mind. Eventually, I decided I should relax, and I went to watch NCIS: LA with my best friend.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III

Harvey Dent's life was one of intrigue and horror. When he was ten, he saw the first example of many, many more perversions of justice. His eighteen-year-old sister had been murdered on her college campus. As a ten-year-old, he was traumatized. His sister had been his greatest caregiver since he was born, as his parents each had to work to support them. He had felt no malice towards his parents, but all the same, he wished they were around more. But when his sister died, he wished even more than before. He had lost his closest companion, as a socially inept boy. He simply couldn't stand it. He thought the trial of the killer would be fair. He thought that justice would be done. He thought that he would receive some sense of peace. But even with all the evidence against his sister's killer, the judge had been paid off. You see, the man who'd killed his sister was Mario Porticelli, the son of a prominent mob boss at the time. Mario, who was twenty at the time, worked with Harvey's sister at a department store. He was also mentally unstable.

The reason Mario had been working there was because his father had insisted that a real man got his money himself. And so, before Mario would have a chance to take a position in the family, he had to get himself a job. Stocking shelves at the local department store seemed like a good place to start. Consequently, Mario ended up working with a pretty blonde named Cynthia Dent. She was a bright, bubbly, and friendly person, the first to greet Mario when he was accepted for the job. And he immediately fell for her. But as stated before, he wasn't of sound mind. One day, when he and Cynthia (Cindy, as everybody affectionately called her) were working in the same area, he expressed his feelings. She was taken aback. Mario waited, and waited. Her response came with a face expressing true sadness. Cindy already had a boyfriend, and she only wanted to be friends. She reassured him that he'll find someone, but he had already shifted his mental course. In his scrambled mind, he saw Cindy's boyfriend at the time as an obstacle. He smiled at her and said she was right, but black thoughts swirled about her boyfriend.

For a few days Mario didn't show up for work. Cindy wasn't worried about her boyfriend, only Mario. She was afraid that what she had said had upset him. Little did she realize how much more she would regret ever saying anything. Five nights after Mario had disappeared from work, Cindy's boyfriend was dead, stabbed with a kitchen knife while he was going for a late-night jog. Cindy immediately realized, and contacted the police. They promised to look into it. That was it. No offer for protection, just that they would "look into it". Cindy feared for her life, and she was right to do so. For Mario had become her stalker. Mario felt even more spurned when she never returned any of his numerous calls. He became angrier and angrier as time progressed, one day snapping. He followed her all the way to an elevator in a mall, muffling her screams and sending them to the ground floor. He strangled her, and she died even before the elevator doors opened.

And still, Mario was not convicted. His father could've given him up, but by the time the court session rolled around, Mario had already earned enough money from his job to join the family business. In fact, he had stayed there longer than necessary because of Cindy. After the sessions ended, Harvey felt cheated. Upon arriving home, he locked himself in the bathroom, not accepting whatever comfort his parents attempted to give. And he began flipping the two-headed coin his sister had given him when he was seven. Somehow, it restored his composure, and after fifteen minutes of constantly flipping the coin, he finally let his mother in. The young Dent's troubles were far from over, however. His mother died of cancer when he was only fourteen. His father literally worked himself to death, and then Harvey was alone in this world at the age of eighteen. He wondered if he would die next, if he would perish at the same young age as his sister. Fortunately, his friends in law school had helped him. He managed to join their debate team, where he could unleash his passion on a subject freely.

He discovered a lawyer would be the right career choice. But his heart had grown callous with all the years of hardship, and he stepped on whoever necessary to get to where he wanted, even his former friends. At twenty-five, he was finally what he wanted to be. But he wanted to go even further. And so, he vied for the position of Gotham DA as long as it took. And he reached his goal. Most of who he defended were people who had done nothing wrong. But then, his blackened soul took over and he defended those who didn't deserve defending. And he used many illegal means to do so. Some days, he was afraid of being found out. But then he was approached by a man whose given name was only Joseph. Joseph offered protection from any prying eyes if he only did what he asked. Harvey accepted, and Joseph made him run guns into Gotham, where they were stored in a large area of defunct hangars. The work was fairly easy, but his boss was mysterious and strange. Sometimes Joseph would be gone for a several hour period, and when he asked, Harvey only received silence.

One day, five years after he had become a lawyer, Harvey was approached by Joseph. He explained that the new menace running around Gotham called the Joker was an accidental creation. While this wasn't the truth, Harvey certainly thought it was. Joseph said he couldn't promise protection from him. Harvey was confident that he could protect himself. He paid for his arrogance dearly. He ended up getting shot in the leg and kidnapped, being brought to an old apartment building. The Joker went off somewhere else while a strange and giddy blonde named Harley dragged him away. When he and Harley reached a certain apartment, a place void of a door and soaked with blood, she threw him against the wall with strength greater than a woman her size should have. As he sat there, his leg bleeding, Harley struck a stereotypical white-girl pose, smiling widely and pulling out a vial of liquid. Harvey knew what it was, and what would happen. Dread filled his mind, and Harley tipped the vial over the left side of his face.

He kept his mouth shut, though the searing pain made him want to scream louder than ever before. He knew his skin was burning, and he felt blood drip from the side of his head and heard it splash on the floor. Harley moved on to his scalp, bleaching what hair survived stark white, and he clutched at his head, only to be injured on his hand. It was too much. While Harley was still pouring the acid on the top of his head, Harvey finally screamed, and seconds later, the pain subsided, his nerves damaged beyond repair. He whimpered and passed out. He faded in and out of consciousness, for a few seconds seeing Batman come to his aid. The next time he woke up, it was in a hospital bed. He had bandages over the left side of his face. He found speaking to be slightly uncomfortable, and he knew it would be a time before he was able to breathe easy. Harvey was worried above all else that he would just end up in a cell, what with the Joker surely leaving evidence of his crimes.

A few days after arriving in the hospital, Batman actually visited him. They exchanged a few words, and Batman simply left. Harvey laughed when Batman left. It seemed to Harvey that Batman cared whether or not Harvey died. _What a pathetic "hero", _thought Harvey, _worrying about his enemies. _The trauma of what happened left him not wanting to leave his room. He still flipped his coin, though he was disappointed that one side was damaged. He sighed. The gift his sister had lovingly given him twenty-three years ago was desecrated. He wished that he could get at the Joker, but he knew it would be a while before he could do anything like that. The morning after his talk with Batman, Harvey heard gunshots down on the ground, and he looked out his window to see two gunmen killing several civilians who were around. One gunman had a mask that had its colors divided down the middle, with red on the left and black on the right, with the other gunman's mask being the other way around. Harvey recognized those colors as Joseph's.

The men fired a grappling hook into the window, and it speared the ceiling, holding fast. They pounded a spike into the concrete ground attached to the other end of the rope, and they proceeded to climb up. When they got into his room, they gave him a full-white tuxedo and shoes, along with a .44 magnum. Harvey stowed it in his pocket, and they grabbed an instrument to use in using the grappling hook's line as a zipline. Harvey went first, landing on the ground and pulling out his gun. The first gunman went second, and the other gunman threw something into the room behind him before sliding down beside them. A few seconds after they were on the ground, the room blew up, creating a glorious inferno. A van without plates pulled up in front of them and opened up. Inside was another of Joseph's employees. Harvey jumped in, laughing and coughing up some blood. The first gunman closed the door behind him, and they all headed back to Joseph's lair.

Upon arriving, Harvey walked towards the hangar he knew was the center of command. When he entered, Joseph was there to greet him, saying, "We've been expecting you. I see you were impudent in your dealings with the Joker." Harvey looked down at the floor. Joseph sighed, continuing, "Ah, I suppose it's forgivable. Everyone makes their mistakes. Now, let's change those bandages of yours." Joseph tossed him a roll of gauze. Harvey took off the older bandages, which were now soaked with dried blood. He put on the newer gauze, and said, "So, now what?" Joseph smiled and said, "We're going to meet Bane. And I think, now, a more appropriate name for you would be White Knight." White Knight smiled as well.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV

I've said my break was only for one day. Well, that day inevitably came to an end, and at four o' clock in the morning, my phone buzzed. I sleepily looked over and saw that it was Jim Gordon calling me. "Urrrggh," I said wearily. I answered the phone, trying my best to sound like Batman given the circumstances. Jim said, "Hey, we're going to need some help here. There's a few Russian mob thugs in some abandoned building on Market and 3rd. We would storm the place, but they have snipers and armor-piercing rounds." "How do you know that?" I asked. Jim sighed and said, "Because they've already used one." I exhaled through my nose, saying, "All right, I'll be there." I quickly jumped up, running towards the front entrance of my house. I expected Dick to be up waiting for me, but oddly, he wasn't. _Ah, whatever, _I thought, _I guess even _he _gets tired. _I ran to the Bat-Cave, putting on my suit and taking off the cape, instead throwing on a special pack Lucius had recently made for me. I had simply dubbed them the Bat-Wings.

They worked by propelling the wearer with wings that folded out that ran on jets. The wearer would then fly over his destination, such as a rooftop, and detach from the wings and drop to the surface. The wings were enabled to return to a specific set of coordinates, in this case the Bat-Cave. I hopped in the Bat-Mobile for the major part of the journey. I soon arrived at the building Jim had told me about. About one hundred yards from the building, I launched out of the Bat-Mobile, stopping it. I flew over the roof, seeing a sniper who had his left pointer finger on the trigger. I smirked, and dropped directly in front of the sniper. I wrenched his wrist, making him release the rifle. He attempted to pull a Glock on me, but I struck his temple and knocked him unconscious. No shots were fired during the altercation, so I knew I hadn't been detected. I walked to the stairs leading into the building. Descending, I saw three goons wandering around the top floor. There was barely any place I could take cover. I decided to wing it.

I lunged towards one goon, putting him in a chokehold. As he struggled, his surprised coworkers didn't have a good shot. I held up my free hand and shot my grappling hook towards the second goon. It hit him in the chest, breaking a couple ribs and knocking him to the floor. The goon I had in my arm was losing breath and slowing. He lazily waved his gun around, trying to reach behind him and hit me. It went off and shot the third goon in the shoulder. I let go of the first goon as he lost consciousness and kicked the third in the head. With all three of them groaning or knocked out, I still had a reason to be wary. The gunshot would have to draw someone up to where I was. I heard chattering in Russian downstairs, and a Russian with a gun emerged from the floor below. I was too far away to move without being shot, and I could tell this guy was a good aim. He laughed.

I couldn't have guessed what happened next. A pipe which had been lying still on the ground a couple feet from the Russian was suddenly smashed into his crotch. He cursed loudly in Russian and doubled over before being aerial-punched in the face. He landed unconscious and thoroughly incapacitated. I heard a male teen go, "Whoo. That was weird. It hurt, and at the same time, it felt SO good!" My eyes widened. "Dick?" I said, "How did you get here?" He turned. He was wearing a red hoodie and a black bandanna over his mouth and nose. He answered, "I was bored, I figured you needed more help, and..." I cut him off, "No, I mean, _how is it that I didn't notice you_?" He said, "Well, I hid in the trunk. And then I climbed up the side of the building." I said, "Wait, the car has a trunk?" "Yeah, you didn't know?" said Dick. "Um…no," I said. I realized I was straying beside the point. I shook my head and said, "I've told you time and again that it's too dangerous for you to help me!" "Yeah," said Dick, "But how's about we talk about that later, 'cause we got goons!" I looked to see a very angry-looking, seven-foot-tall Russian built like a tank and wearing large brass knuckles.

I attempted to jump and punch him, landing a blow to his face. The goon sneered, shaking it off like it was an ant bite. Dick tossed me the pipe, and I struck upwards. I've learned throughout the years that when in doubt, aim for the undercarriage. This instance was something that helped me realize that. His hands flew to his crotch, his eyes bugging and his teeth bared in a near-comical expression of unholy pain. He went to his knees, and I swung the pipe like a baseball bat, hitting him in the side of the head and knocking him out. Dick ran up to me and said, "Hey, let me handle the pipe." "Why?" I asked. He tilted his head, saying, "You'd be surprised how many people would try to work over circus acrobats. My dad always said I should learn how to defend myself. I started training with a metal pipe." "You mean using it like a bo staff?" "Yeah," he said, "Now, let's go beat up some Russians!" He began walking ahead of me before I grabbed his shoulder. "Hey," I said, "When we get into any fights, you only start hitting if I say you can. Otherwise, _stay back_." "Aye, aye," said Dick.

We proceeded down the stairs cautiously, being met with machine gun fire. I pulled some batarangs, throwing them at the barrels of the guns. The guns backfired, and their users cried out in pain. "Okay, go," I said. Dick lunged towards them, beginning with a downward stroke to the first. He proceeded to smoothly change to a backhand strike to the second, breaking a few ribs. Another came up behind him, pulling his gun. Dick finished off the third, but the newer goon had already aimed directly for Dick's head. I tapped on the man's shoulder. He turned around, and I looked him in the eye as I sent my tightly clenched fist into his nose. Blood flowed, and he wobbled before falling backward. I shook the blood off my knuckles, saying, "You all right, Dick?" "Are you kidding?" he said with a manic expression on his face, "I feel more alive than ever before! Let's keep going!" I smiled. I had to admit, he could handle himself well in a fight. "All right, let's go," I said.

We reached the bottom floor. In front of us were five men with machine guns. Dick whistled loudly, and the men turned around wearing quizzical expressions. I smashed the first man's wrist against the wall with my foot, breaking it and knocking the gun from his hand. I proceeded to ram my elbow into his throat, dropping him. Dick quickly disarmed two of the others, proceeding to swing the pipe into their stomachs. Both fell, groaning loudly. One of the remaining goons drew his weapon and fired. One bullet grazed my shoulder. I groaned and wobbled, but Dick swept the man off his feet. The goon landed on his head, and he slowly lost consciousness. The final goon was my problem. I simply punched the scared man. I looked towards Dick and said, "Alright, that can't be all of them. We'd better let the police handle whoever's left. There's no way they pose a serious threat now." Dick nodded. We ran out the back, and I asked Dick, "Where's the car?" Dick pointed down the alley.

We ran to the Batmobile, and we got in. I nearly started the car before I said, "Wait." "What?" asked Dick. I looked towards him, saying, "You parked this here." "Yeah," he said, "I kind of had to. There wouldn't have been any way to get through the door from the front." There weren't any scratches on the car as far as I could tell, and it wouldn't be a good idea for me to simply sit here chastising him while I bled to death. And since I was, as mentioned before, _bleeding to death, _I let Dick drive us to the manor. When we got there, I was too faint to get Alfred, so Dick ran inside and got him. Alfred was obviously panicked when he got outside, and he said to me, "Master Wayne, can you hear me?" I replied, "Yes, Alfred. Look, I'll be fine. Just patch me up and let me get some rest. Don't worry." Alfred, looking a little indignant and beginning to put gauze on my shoulder, said, "Master Wayne, I've been personally raising you for the past twenty years without any help. It's my duty to worry." I smiled, saying, "Thanks, Alfred." I was fully bandaged soon enough, and I got inside.

I took off my mask and laid down in my bed. I looked up at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened. I had always thought it wouldn't be safe for Dick to be out there with me. And it wasn't. But after that, I realized that he knew the danger and handled it. I was still resistant to the idea of him helping me, but at this point I knew he could do it. I sat up eventually, grimacing as the pain in my shoulder flared. I heard a knock at the door. "Come in," I said. Dick strolled in, jumping on my bed and landing with his legs crossed. He stared at me for a few seconds. "What do you want?" I asked. He didn't answer my question, instead saying, "You still don't want me helping you, do you?" I shook my head, saying, "No, I don't. Look, you did good back there, but it gets so much worse." Dick laughed bitterly and said, "I saw my parents get beaten to death! It's not like I haven't seen what you call 'worse'!" I pointed at him and said, "It's not just what you see. I nearly got killed out there, and so did you! Look, the danger out there, earlier, you handled that! But that was a shoddy operation they were running! There's a higher class of criminal out there, and it won't go as well next time!" Dick hung his head.

I sighed and continued, "And besides, after your parents were killed, you were wrecked. It took me to get you back to your…semi-normal self." Dick lifted his head, saying, "I already have a name, though." "What, the Boy Wonder?" I asked sarcastically. "Uh, no," said Dick, "That's terrible. I was actually going to call myself Robin." I furrowed my brow, saying, "Why?" He shrugged and said, "Well, the pattern for my family's old acrobatic costumes was black and red. A lot of people called us 'the robins'. I guess it's my way of paying homage to my family." I said, "Well, maybe I'll call you that over the communicators, but I'm still not letting you out on the streets with me. Not yet." He sighed, saying, "Fine." He walked out, and I smiled. _Robin, _I thought, _Not bad. _


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

Bane was sitting at the head of the table where he had sat when he met White Knight. He was closely admiring the gauntlets on his hands. Made with interlocking metal plates and small spurs on the knuckles, they would be devastating in a fight. In fact, there were already massive gashes in the wall from when he went punch-happy after receiving the gauntlets. A soldier walked in, saying, "Sir, they're here." "Brilliant," said Bane, "Send them in, and take the rest of the day off." The soldier, surprised, said, "O-okay." He walked out. Bane had been considerably more joyous since his newfound strength, so much so that the work environment in his headquarters had become considerably more relaxed. He didn't even mind if an employee did something wrong. After all, he could take care of it himself with ease. He was still staring at his gauntlets when three of his advisors came into the room. Bane said, "Gentlemen, I have an important matter to discuss." The first advisor asked, "What is it, sir?" Bane smiled underneath his intimidating mask.

He had already told them of his eventful meeting with Joseph and White Knight. But he hadn't mentioned the daunting task set before him. He explained the problem of taking Gotham. The first advisor said, "It's obvious, isn't it?" "What?" asked another. The first advisor said, "Well, all we have to do is use politics. We're going to need Bane to be mayor." Bane said, "But how? Look at me. Would they really want such an intimidating and let's face it, suspicious man to be their leader?" The advisor chuckled and said, "Ah, therein lies the rub. I never said the people needed to _see _you. After all, a director always works _behind the scenes._" Bane nodded, saying, "Yes, yes. That could work. We'll have to work up good publicity first, though." "Of course, sir," said the first advisor, "I'll begin immediately." "Thank you, my friends," said Bane. When they left, Bane proceeded to stare at his gauntlets once again. He chuckled happily. _This'll be fun, _he thought. Of course, he'll need to get the competition out of the way, and he'll need a certain amount of discord in order to look like a man who could restore order to a chaotic city. Little did he know, he wasn't the only one thinking about these things.

In the lair of Joseph, White Knight was walking along, talking with his boss about the very worries Bane had. Joseph was on the track of Bane's competition, saying, "With the venom we gave him, it shouldn't be too hard to get rid of the other men running." White Knight said, "Yeah, I guess so." He pulled out a roll of gauze from his jacket pocket, beginning to put the newer bandages on. Joseph watched intently, eventually saying, "You don't need a mirror to do that?" "No," said White Knight. "Well, why not?" asked Joseph. White Knight hesitated, finally saying, "It's not as hard as you'd think to put on." Joseph knew the reason was much more important to White Knight, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Joseph stayed silent until White Knight finished. White Knight then said, as if their earlier exchange had never happened, "Okay, so Bane can handle his competition by himself. What else do we need to do?" Joseph smiled, saying, "I thought you'd never ask." He put his hand on White Knight's shoulder and continued, "That responsibility falls on you, my boy." He paused, simply smiling at him.

White Knight asked, "What?" Joseph's smile grew wider and said, "I'm just thinking…you're the best person to undertake your next assignment." Growing impatient, White Knight asked, "And what exactly is that?" Joseph replied, "You must instigate chaos. And I have the tools to do it." He walked him through a pair of doors. They led to a large room filled with Joseph's soldiers. Disciples, he called them. Most wore the simple red-and-black pattern, while higher-ranking men wore a gold-and-black pattern, and the highest rank wore all-black. An all-black soldier, armed with two handguns, a broadsword, several pipe grenades, and five eight-inch bladed knives approached Joseph, saying, "Sir, we're close to being fully prepared. We should be finished in no time." He turned to White Knight. White Knight turned to Joseph, saying, "What does he mean?" Joseph said, "All this…is to feed your quest. These men are under your temporary command." "For what?" asked White Knight, still confused. The commanding officer with them asked Joseph, "Shall I explain?" Joseph nodded.

The officer said, "Well, first off, what is one of the most important things for a leader to do?" White Knight thought for a few seconds, eventually replying, "Well, he has to keep the peace." The officer said, "Exactly. But no one knows how adept a leader is at doing so until…" He pointed at White Knight, as if he was a teacher looking to his star student. White Knight smiled, saying, "Unless something happens to disturb the peace." The officer lowered his hand, saying, "Right. _We_are that something. We have to make the people think that Bane would be a leader capable of protecting his city from turmoil." White Knight nodded, saying, "And what exactly must we do?" The officer said, "Well, that's for you to figure out. As of now, all of the disciples are under your command." White Knight grinned, turning towards Joseph and saying, "I'm liking this more and more." Joseph smiled, saying, "Quite right. Well, it seems I'm no longer needed at the moment. And so, I have something to attend to." He walked off. White Knight asked the officer, "So, what does he always go off to do?" The officer replied, "Well, this may give you an idea: I'm the highest-ranking disciple, and even I don't know. It's probably better not to ask." White Knight furrowed his brow.

He decided to forget about the subject of his employer's strange habits. Instead, he began walking through the huge room, seeing all the disciples cleaning their weapons, their masks, and generally every piece of their gear. White Knight smiled, saying, "Seems like you guys make up a well-oiled machine." The officer chuckled, saying, "Oh, yeah. We've been doing this for years, and not once have we failed." "How long _has  
><em>this operation been around?" asked White Knight. The officer replied, "My guess is around twenty-five years. I've only been here nine years, myself. Joseph's network is always changing." "How does he meet all of you?" asked White Knight. The officer said, "He goes out to the rats, the lower people, the roots of society. I was out on the streets doing what I could to survive when he found me. He gave me a higher purpose. He gave me a chance at power." White Knight nodded, saying, "It's a good way of recruiting people. You find people who've lived in the lower parts of the city. You find those who know how to get around without being noticed. You elevate them, give them greater power, and you have an army." "Yeah," said the officer, "And a good one, at that." White Knight was already thinking of what they should do to assist Bane's political quest.

Back at the Bat-Cave, Dick and I were training. I knew now that even if I wasn't permitting him to go out and fight, I would have to teach him to defend himself if someone finds out about the Bat-Cave or go on the offense if he went against what I said and followed me anyway. The latter, I figured, was the more likely, so that was what we focused on. Dick opted for a bo staff, of course. For many hours at a time, we would fiercely spar. I used a staff, too. I found that Dick was actually fairly adept already, but he needed improvement. He only focused on aggression, and didn't give enough attention to dodging and blocking. Steadily, he improved, until a few days later, he was near my level. After a drawn-out sparring match, which left us both sweating and bruised, I said, "Well, it looks to me like we both deserve a break." "Yeah," said Dick, "I just want to do nothing right now." "Hear, hear," I said.

We went inside, where Alfred had already gotten me a bottle of Redd's and Dick a bottle of Mountain Dew. Along with those were two plates of very well-received pasta. After devouring about half of my plate, I sighed contentedly and said, "Oh, thank you, Alfred." Alfred shrugged and said, "Well, Master Wayne, you earned it." Dick was even further along than I was, saying, "Yeah, we sure did." I raised my eyebrows when, not ten minutes later, Dick was already getting a second plateful. I asked Alfred, "Did I ever eat like that?" "Master Wayne," said Alfred, chuckling, "it's been my experience that when a boy reaches a certain age, his appetite peaks alarmingly. You were quite a cavern yourself." I laughed, saying, "Yeah, I guess so." Dick leaned back, finishing his food, and belched loudly. He said, "Aw, yeah. I love this mansion." Alfred and I both smiled. Dick then stood, saying, "I have something to make you guys, too." I furrowed my brow, saying, "Wait, what?" Alfred said, "Well, while you've been teaching master Grayson martial arts, I've been teaching him the culinary arts." "Do you know what he's making?" I asked. Alfred shook his head, smiling.

Dick went into the kitchen. A while later, he emerged, carrying something sweet-smelling in a glass pan. It was covered with a towel. He set it on the table, where Alfred and I were seated. Dick went to the head of the table, saying, "I've went with a classic. I imagine you'll like it." He gestured towards the dish. I pulled off the towel, revealing a pineapple upside-down cake. I raised my eyebrows, impressed. I looked to Dick, saying, "You made this yourself?" "Alfred's a good teacher," said Dick, smirking. Alfred smiled. "Now," said Dick, "Let's see how this turned out in the end." He went into the kitchen to retrieve a knife, with which he cut the cake. I went and grabbed plates, setting them out on the table. We each got a slice. Alfred and Dick stared at me for a while. "What?" I asked. "You have to be the first one to try it," said Dick, "I insist." I hesitated. I took some of the cake, putting it in my mouth and savoring it. I chewed slowly. I nodded.

"This is good," I said. Dick lit up, saying, "Really?" "Yeah," I said, laughing, "This is _really _good." "All right, then," said Dick. As we ate, I looked over at Dick. He was happy. And to think, it all started when a couple of orphans had a chance meeting in a graveyard. I smiled.

HAPPY TURKEY DAY!


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI

Bane and his men had to devise a reasonable plan and platform for his campaign. First off, he had to choose who would stand in as the mayor. He chose a man who had originally been a soldier lowest in the ranks, but rose to the highest position. His name was Isaac Ortega. Isaac was fairly handsome and well-built, with a silver tongue and a convincing smile. Fortunately, Isaac was born an American. He joined Bane after trying to kill the president with a band of guerilla fighters. He was the only one who survived, being the sniper and having an easier escape route. When he came to Bane, he was willing to start at the bottom to prove himself again. He had, time and again. And so, Bane came to him one day with his task. It was a day like any other. Isaac was in full military uniform, just like always. He was having a cup of premium Colombian coffee. He breathed in the steam lifting from the delicious black beverage, sighing and saying in response to Bane's thudding footsteps, "You couldn't sneak up on me before, and you're even worse at it now." Bane laughed, saying, "Yes, venom leaves a few things to be desired." Isaac took a long sip of his coffee.

Bane explained the situation. Isaac nodded, clearing his throat and assuming a politician-like stance, pausing and saying, "Wait, where is this city located?" Bane said, "Uh, in New Jersey, I believe." "Alright then," said Isaac, resuming the stance and beginning to talk in a perfect New Jersey accent, "People of Gotham, I come before you today with the hope that you…" He pointed sincerely at nothing, as if personally asking someone for a favor, "Will trust me with the safety of our fine home. I, Isaac Ortega, wish to bring real change here! All the crime running around? Gone. All the grievous financial problems of the underground? Solved. But I can only do this with your help. We can still save this city." He went back to his normal stance. Bane chuckled and asked, "Now, what was that all about?" Isaac sniffed and continued, "Well, the accent is specifically for the people. If they hear an accent they're familiar with, they might gain an affinity for the candidate. Now, of course, I was born in northeast Texas, so we'll have to do some faking here and there, tweak my name a little bit." Bane nodded, pleased.

Isaac sighed and said, "Now, we'll have to make that speech a little longer and I'll have to make it look I really want to help." Bane said, "Well, we can easily give you funds that seem legitimate. After all, we've kept such a grand operation as ours under the radar for years, and we've amassed quite a bit of wealth. This won't be too hard after all." "We'll see," said Isaac. Bane said, "Well, you know what? We have to make you _look _like a politician." "No problem," said Isaac, "You know me, I always dress up for the occasion." "That's a good habit to keep," said Bane, "And I'm sure it'll help us." Bane took Isaac to a fitting room, where they were currently storing a multitude of suits for Isaac to try on. All different methods of stitching, different materials, you name it. The fitter was a small Mexican woman named Francisca. She quickly gestured for Isaac to walk onto a podium while constantly muttering in rapid-fire Spanish. "She's the best fitter in Mexico City," said Bane. "You're *$% right I am," said Francisca in English. Isaac chuckled, looking back at Bane and saying, "I like this woman." Bane smiled underneath his mask.

As Francisca began taking Isaac's measurements, Bane said, "Good luck, my friend." Isaac nodded, and Bane exited the room. The necessities required for his mission went through Bane's head time and again. He walked with a straight posture and with his hands clasped behind his back, thinking hard. Even if any of his employees extended greetings, Bane didn't respond. This wasn't out of disregard. In fact, Bane recognized and valued highly a respectable work force. The reason he didn't respond in kind to his men was because his mind was so deep, that once he delved into its vast recesses, it was as if he had traveled to a soundless place, where nothing was heard. He walked straight to his office. Upon entering, he sat in his chair behind his desk, still thinking. Eventually, he surfaced from his mind and looked around his office. He realized the chair was too small. He would have to get a bigger one. "How about that," he said to himself, "I need a bigger chair." He looked at a three-year-old photo of himself. It was back when he was a scrawny little man. He picked it up with one hand. With the other, he reached over, and crushed it. "That man is dead," he said, dropping the demolished photo to the ground.

Meanwhile, back at Joseph's hangar lair, White Knight and the lead disciple were enjoying a choice steak in a back area of the hangar converted into a nice dining room. They were each about halfway through their meal, and thus far no words had been exchanged. Eventually, White Knight looked directly at the disciple. He was around forty years old, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, a crooked nose, a short black beard, and a snaggle-tooth. White Knight said, "So, is this your first steak of this kind?" The disciple shook his head, saying, "No, actually. With Joseph taking care of us, we've been eating well for a long while now. One of our disciples now runs a farm. The exciting operation we run became too intense for him, and now he provides our food." White Knight nodded. "Now," he said, "I think I know what we need to do in Gotham." The disciple resumed eating and gestured for White Knight to continue. White Knight kept on, "Alright, first, what are people most afraid of collapsing?" The disciple thought for a few seconds.

Eventually, he said, "I don't know. I'm not really good with this kind of question." White Knight said, "Do you remember August 2011?" "Yeah, stock market crash, right?" said the disciple. White Knight nodded, continuing, "People are worried about their money, their economy." "I definitely remember," said the disciple, smiling, "All the Richie Riches whining about their money." "Right," said White Knight, "So we have to destabilize Gotham's economy, or at least the part owned by the richer citizens." "I think I know what you want to do," said the disciple. "Oh, yeah," said White Knight, "We're going to rob banks. And I mean the big ones. How many disciples are there?" Not skipping a beat, the disciple said, "Two hundred and six." "And how many are there of each rank?" asked White Knight. "There are one hundred and fifty-three red disciples, forty-eight gold, and five black, including me," said the disciple. White Knight said, "Okay, so that leaves about three or four reds under the command of one gold." "Yes," said the disciple, "We can have faster and more effective cells, which means faster and more effective missions." "This is starting to sound good," said White Knight, smiling.

Back at the manor, I was fixing a bowtie, and once finished, I looked at myself once again in the mirror. "Good," I said, "Tonight's party will go perfect." I was in a precisely ironed tuxedo and sharp and not to mention expensive shoes. I had a pure gold watch to finish off the look. Behind me, I heard, "Okay, will this do?" I turned to see Dick, also in an ironed tuxedo, but there wasn't any tie, the shirt wasn't tucked into his pants, and he was wearing black Converse shoes. I nodded, saying, "Yeah." Dick raised his eyebrows, saying, "Really? Isn't this party supposed to be high-end, or something?" I shrugged and said, "It's not like I dressed any differently when I was sixteen." Dick smiled. I walked past him to get one last drink, and as I passed, I tapped his chest and said, "But don't swing from the chandelier." Dick shook his head and said, "Tch. Too bad. That would've been fun." I laughed wryly and said, "Not for me." I went back to the bar and went for the Bacardi. After finishing the drink, I went back into the living room and sat on the couch.

I turned on the Xbox and started playing Halo. Dick walked up to me and said, "What're you doing?" I paused the gamed and looked up at him, saying, "Have you ever met the people who come to a party at Wayne Manor?" "No," said Dick, "What about them?" "Let's go down the list, shall we?" I said, "Some have inexplicable accents, and if you ask them about it, they'll scoff or snort or whatever other sound they can make with their facial orifices and say it was from living in some remote country. Then there are those ditzy women and sometimes _men _who laugh every other sentence. Some of them drone on about their various academic or otherwise frivolous achievements until everyone else wants to jump off a high surface. There are those who hate Batman. Oh, yeah, and then there are the drunk ones. And if wasn't for the beautiful people at Bungie, I guarantee you I would've already gone postal with all of those idiots. But I can take out my frustration out on fictitious aliens." "Then why do you invite them?" asked Dick.

I said, "The Wayne fortune and Wayne Enterprises aren't what they used to be." I turned my head to revert my attention back to the game, saying, "I suggest you play some, too. I don't want you trying to give people concussions with the punch ladle, as much as that would satisfy me." Dick nodded, saying, "Alright then." He walked off, and Alfred walked in, dressed in full butler garb. He said, "Ah, working off whatever hostility we have towards our guests, are we?" "Oh, yeah," I said, "What about you?" "I'm good at darts," he replied, "It's a lot more satisfying." "What, do you have a ton of individually printed cutouts of their faces?" I asked. "You have your methods, I have mine," said Alfred. I laughed. I kept on playing, right up until all the guests arrived. I went into Dick's room the second the first Bentley pulled up. I leaned in, saying, "Are you ready?" "Yeah," said Dick, "I don't think we'll have any problems." "Good," I said, "Because problems would be bad for both of us right now." Dick nodded and shut off his Xbox.

We went to the living room, where all the food was set out and the team of hired servers was poised. I heard a knock at the door, and as Alfred answered, Dick and I looked at each other and nodded as we went together into yet another dangerous situation.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII

Several hours later, my face hurt from fake-laughing throughout the night and Dick was passed out on the couch from too much at the chocolate fountain. Alfred, meanwhile, was mixing an elaborate cocktail in the bar. But not for me. He had noticeable bags under his eyes, and his usually-pristine and stereotypical mustache was more than a little bit off-kilter. This man was a war vet. He had told me stories about his time in the military without hesitation. He didn't want to talk about the party. Actually, it wasn't so much a party as it was an unintended rave. I had mentioned the drunk guests to Dick, but I wasn't aware that the son of a banker had brought a small stash of LSD. I was alerted to the situation once I saw one guest attempting to beat the wine flutes to smithereens. I asked him what he was doing, and he said the flutes had now transformed into transparent serpents. Yeah. This was one party I was hoping to forget. Usually, I was able to go to bed afterwards without any trouble. But this time, I was even more exasperated, and once again I went through Halo.

I was eventually tired, and seeing that Dick was still asleep, I got a blanket and put it over him. I ruffled his hair as I walked past, saying quietly, "You did good tonight." I walked off to my room. Upon entering, I kicked off my shoes, slung off my tie, and shed my jacket, no longer possessing the will to change or take a shower. As I collapsed into my bed, I turned my head to the right, looking at a framed photo of my parents and me on my nightstand. All three of us were just acting silly, even though my mother was wearing an insanely expensive dress and my father was wearing an insanely expensive tuxedo. My mom had her arms thrown wide, and she was wearing the biggest grin I had ever seen. My dad had me in a fake headlock. I went along with my dad, closing one eye and sticking out my tongue. The photo was only known to me, my mom and dad, and Alfred. No one outside the house ever saw it, not because my parents thought it was embarrassing, but because it was something special enough to keep private. Underneath the photo was a thick photo album. I took it off of the nightstand, opening it up. I sat up and flipped through it.

The first photo was one of my parents holding a baby who was just starting to grow jet-black hair. I knew it was me. The next was just my parents. It was a still of them holding hands and kissing. They were the happiest married couple I've ever known, and they still are. I remember a story my dad told me. He told me, when he and my mom were newlyweds, she didn't want to take a photo because she hadn't put on makeup yet. My dad was eventually too impatient, and though she protested, he said she didn't need the makeup. She looked down sheepishly and asked him if he really meant it. He replied, "What do you think?" At this point in the story, he smiled widely. He finished, saying that after that day, she didn't buy any more makeup. "And she looked even better afterwards," said my dad, raising his eyebrows. I laughed as I remembered an eight-year-old Bruce Wayne giggling and saying, "Dad! Keep that between you and mom!" "Ah, but it's my job to make you uncomfortable," said my dad. _We had a good laugh, didn't we, _I thought.

I kept going through all the photos, remembering yet again many other pieces of my life as I turned them over. There was a photo taken just after I'd taken a bath because I had been playing in mud. There was one taken on my seventh birthday. My dad was sick, but he took the photo anyway. There was a photo of me in the hospital after breaking my arm at age eight. I, though worn-out and of course injured, was giving the camera a thumbs-up, and my parents were doing the same. I thought of how my parents slept in the hospital one night, and Alfred slept there the next. I wasn't there a minute without someone watching over me. Those days, those moments, they were the reason I knew my parents cared about me more than anything. More than their money, more than their equally powerful friends. I was the one thing in their life they loved the most. I smiled as I thought about those times, and I looked on the cover, which was engraved, "FAMILY FOREVER: THE WAYNES". I ran my fingers over the black leather of the cover. "Goodnight, everybody," I said quietly.

The next day, Dick was the first one up, eating two Pop-tarts and chugging a large mug of coffee. I stretched and said, "Man, I'm surprised you're up so early after last night." "So am I," said Dick, "I was more surprised that I had a blanket thrown over me, of course." "Hey," I said, "I saw a need and filled it." "No, no," said Dick, "Thanks. I remember how my dad used to do that after a long day." I nodded. "So," said Dick, "Where to today?" "Down to Lucius' place, actually." "Really?" said Dick, smiling, "You mean the guy who got you all geared up?" "Yeah," I said, pouring a bowl of cereal, "Him." "What do you need from him?" asked Dick. "Actually," I said, "This particular visit is about what _you _need." Dick's jaw dropped. He laughed excitedly and shouted, "NO WAY!" Putting my finger to my lips, I said, "Alfred's still asleep." Dick cleared his throat and said, "Right. But still, that's awesome! I mean, I thought you were…" "Sheltering you?" I said, "Holding you back?" "Yeah," said Dick guiltily. "Well," I said, "it's time to put an end to that. So I'm taking you to be fitted." Dick sat up straight and furrowed his brow. "Fitted?" he asked. I nodded, smiling.

We hopped in my Maserati and drove off. Five minutes after leaving, Dick said, "Can I ask for something custom over there?" I shrugged and said, "Maybe. I did." Dick grinned and said, "Alright then. I'm happy." We didn't have any conversation throughout the rest of the drive, mostly because Dick was so excited. I was pretty excited too, though I was a little apprehensive. After all, I didn't want him in the field with me until now. So I was still nervous. I changed my grip on the wheel several times. I was severely fidgety. Though I wasn't anything compared to Dick. He was tapping his feet on the floorboards rapidly, and he such a manic expression on his face that any woman passing might've mistaken him for a spontaneous stalker. I tapped him on the shoulder and turned the rearview mirror towards him. He immediately calmed down and assumed a platonic expression. The rest of his energy was directed towards his fingers, though, so he was tapping them on his thighs to the tunes of random songs. He and I were both ready to get to our destination.

A few minutes later, we pulled up to Lucius' place. Before I had even fully stopped, Dick had jumped out of the car and run towards the entrance. I sighed, stopping and getting out. Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes glinting with excitement. I walked up next to him and said, "You ready?" "I have to be, don't I?" said Dick. "I suppose," I said, opening the door. We walked in, and I announced, "Hey, Lucius! We're here!" We heard Lucius' voice carry across the cavernous room, saying, "Took you long enough. I was starting to think you'd bailed." "Not us, Mr. Fox," said Dick. He turned around and around, eventually stopping and saying, "This is a nice place you have here." "Wayne Enterprises gave their employees quite generous salaries back in the day," said Lucius, "And thank you. Might we go downstairs?" "Wait, the lab's downstairs?" said Dick. "Indeed," said Lucius, "And it's bigger." "Can't wait," said Dick. "I'm sure," I said. Lucius led the way to the stairs, and we descended to a door with a scanner to its right. "Now, the other times you've visited me," said Lucius, "I was already in here, and I turned this off. But now you get to see how the magic happens." Dick turned to me and grinned.

Lucius put his hand on the pad, and it proceeded to accept him. The door unlocked, and Lucius opened it. Dick and I were both soundly unimpressed. "Not the kind of magic I was expecting," said Dick. Lucius said, "Well, the scanner is so specific, even if you were to lift my handprint from a glass or something, it wouldn't let you in." He assumed a facial expression that obviously expected us to be amazed. Dick and I shrugged our shoulders. "Still not what I was looking for," said Dick. Lucius sighed, saying, "Alright. I guess I should have known it would be lost on you." Dick and I were slightly indignant as consequence of this remark, but it was mostly because it was true. Dick said, "Okay. So what's the plan?" "Well," said Lucius, "we find out what size of suit would fit you, what weapon you're most adept with, and…I suppose you get to choose the colors." "Cool," said Dick, "Let's do it!" Lucius laughed and gestured for us to follow him into a different part of the room. Dick and I walked just behind him, and I was wondering what we'd find.

We stopped in front of a pedestal, and Lucius said to Dick, "Go ahead and stand on it." Dick walked up to it, looking around and saying, "That's weird. Where's all the tape measures and stuff?" Lucius chuckled and said, "We don't need to bother with any of those things. We've moved on around here." Dick got up on the pedestal. He lifted his arms and let them fall back down to his sides, saying, "So, if none of that's going to happen, what's the method?" Lucius approached a large console two feet behind the pedestal. "You'll see," said Lucius, "And I think it'll be the magic you wanted. Lift your arms." Dick did so, and Lucius tapped a few keys on the console. The pedestal became washed in a blue light, and it scanned Dick up and down. After a few seconds, it ended and Lucius said, "Okay, we're done." "I like that," said Dick, jumping off the pedestal. Lucius then went up to a screen which displayed a 3D model of Dick. "Alright," said Lucius, "I'll work on the suit for a few days, and you should have it in about a week." "Perfect," I said.

Lucius held up his pointer finger and said, "Almost. We still need some kind of name, and a logo." Dick immediately spoke up, "The name is Robin. It's what my family's acrobat costumes looked like, and it's my middle name." I was surprised, and I said, "Wait, your full name is Richard Robin Grayson?" "Hey," said Dick, "That's not something I've heard since I stole from the cookie jar." I was still a little taken aback, but I decided to put that away for the time. "So how are we making the logo?" asked Dick. Lucius showed him a pen on one side of the screen, and with a few taps on it, a spectrum of colors appeared. Dick immediately understood, tapping the color yellow with the pen and drawing a yellow circle. He thought for a second, and he then drew a yellow R whose "legs" extended past the circle. "And I was thinking that we could put it…" said Dick, walking over to the 3D model, "over here on the right shoulder." Lucius nodded, saying, "Alright. And now," he continued, pulling out a large suitcase, "for the weapon." He smiled.

Dick immediately picked out a steel staff in the case. "Is this what you'll want to use?" asked Lucius. "Oh, yeah," said Dick, smiling, "Thanks, Mr. Fox." "It's my pleasure," said Lucius, "Oh, and press the button in the middle." Dick pressed it, and the staff collapsed into itself. "Cool," said Dick, laughing. "So, are you satisfied?" I asked Dick. "I could certainly get used to this," said Dick. "Well, it's been a pleasure working with you, Robin," said Lucius. "You too," said Dick. "I'll have that suit ready soon," said Lucius. I waved goodbye as we left, and suddenly, I didn't feel nervous at all.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII

White Knight and the disciples were beginning preparations. Their monstrous operation would have to start after Bane began his run for mayor. First they had to establish a network of bases in Gotham where they could house equipment and men for ease of deployment. The lead disciple, who White Knight had at this point simply dubbed Pitch because of his mask, was in charge of planning. White Knight was in his private quarters at this time, changing his bandages, without a mirror as always. He felt the scarred tissue and his lidless eye as he put on the newer bandages. His damaged left eye needed constant maintenance, and consequently the bandages always had artificial tears soaked into it. He had to reapply the tears every couple hours. He went out from his quarters, going to talk to Pitch. Pitch was standing in front of a table with a map on top of it, his mask on. White Knight approached him, saying, "So, I take it planning is going smoothly?" "Indeed," said Pitch, "It looks to me and everyone else here for that matter that this'll turn out just as we wanted it to." White Knight looked over the map.

He liked what he saw. The locations chosen would only look like a random smattering unless someone took a very close look, at which point they would see that they were placed so near to the banks, that they would be dismissed because of course, no criminal would stay near his crime. And even if some superior intelligence on the Gotham PD figured it out, well…every man has his price. White Knight had a question, however. "How do you afford all this? I know these places. They're very high-end apartments." Pitch simply smiled and said, "Well, we have disciples in high-end places." "Really?" said White Knight, "Like who?" "Eh," said Pitch, "I don't know of many myself. I guess Joseph is afraid we'd try to kill them for their money if we knew who they were. Which we would. But anyway, we only find out once they die. Carmine Falcone was one of them." "The guy who went the way of the dodo via corkscrew?" asked White Knight. "Yep," said Pitch, "The one crossed off by the Joker. The very same." White Knight nodded. "Well, that's certainly interesting." "It is," said Pitch, still looking down at the table.

White Knight jumped as he heard from behind him, "Going well, I presume?" He turned, seeing Joseph clad only in a bath towel. "Sir?" asked White Knight, confused. Joseph looked down and laughed, "Oh, this? Ah, I was just taking a bath." White Knight was even more confused, considering that there wasn't any running water on the premises. He looked at Joseph, noticing for the first time that he had red eyes. Joseph chuckled, "I suppose you're drawn towards my eyes? Ah, yes, they got me a woman or two back in the day. Well, I'm off. Can't remain indecent all day, as much as I wish it." He laughed once more and walked away. "He's in a cheerful mood," said White Knight, raising his undamaged right eyebrow. "Well, it kind of swings from time to time," said Pitch, "I guess you've just caught him on a good day. Or rather, he's caught you." "Do I want to know what he's like on a bad day?" asked White Knight. Laughing, Pitch replied, "Oh, no, don't worry. All he really does is make himself scarce. He's a harder man to find than you'd think." White Knight, though still confused, decided to drop it.

Pitch, still looking down at the table, said, "I'll give you this, though, I've wondered about his eyes and his 'baths' too. We're all pretty much in the dark about it." White Knight felt an eerie chill crawl over his skin, even that which lacked nerve endings. There was always something about Joseph that seemed off. White Knight could never pin it down. White Knight aired his thoughts, and Pitch said, "Yeah, that's a consequence of the environment. We all feel weird around him sometimes." White Knight said, "I'm sure. Well, you have this well in hand, it seems. I'll leave you to it. I have to make a phone call." "Go on," said Pitch. White Knight walked to a far corner of the hangar, thinking about Joseph's character the whole distance. He looked down at his phone, pulling up his contacts. At the top was James Gordon. White Knight scoffed and deleted the contact. He scrolled through all his others, deleting all but one: one that read in all caps, BANE. White Knight pressed "call" and put the phone to his right ear. The phone rang for a few seconds before White Knight heard a click.

Bane picked up the phone, saying, "Yes? What do you want?" "How's your little experiment in political science going?" said White Knight. "If by that you mean my plan to take over Gotham," said Bane, irritated, "then it's going wonderfully. I already have my most trusted men on it. I have a man picked out to pose as the candidate, while I run everything behind him." "Like a puppet master," said White Knight. "No, my friend," said Bane, "like a conductor of a grand orchestra. I raise my right hand, and one third of my performers do exactly as they're supposed to. None of the flailing that puppets do. Rather, it's precise, controlled, and synchronized." "Alright," said White Knight, nodding, "Then who's your 'candidate'?" "Isaac Ortega," said Bane. White Knight thought he knew that name. He put Bane on speaker while he googled the name. He found a news article about his failed attempt at killing the president. "So, I take it he's better at acting as a politician than he is at assassinating world leaders?" said White Knight. "Indeed," said Bane.

Bane said, "What about your mission?" "It's going fine," said White Knight, "We have the locations mapped out and men ready to start the attack." "Good," said Bane, "And what direction should I head with that?" White Knight was confused with the question, until he realized that Bane didn't know anything about the people of Gotham or New Jersey in general. "Ah," said White Knight, "Just promise to make things better and I'll tell my guys to lay off gradually, until you've won the day, and the people." "I know exactly how to do that," said Bane, "I'm liking this plan more and more." "So am I," said White Knight, "When will you be heading up here?" "Four days," said Bane, "Four days until it begins." "We'll be waiting," said White Knight. "Excellent," said Bane, "Soon, Gotham will be in my hands." "Soon, indeed," said White Knight, hanging up. He chuckled. _Not in _your _hands: Joseph's, _he thought. White Knight stood in the corner for a little bit longer as the bustle of the disciples continued around him.

Bane set down the phone, sighing and saying to Isaac, who was standing next to him, "I have a feeling White Knight has another agenda. He doesn't seem like the kind of person to hand over the city he's been running guns in for years." Isaac shrugged, saying, "Who knows? But even if that's the case, Joseph has two hundred-and-six men. You have at least three hundred." "So did the Spartans at Thermopylae," said Bane, "And look what happened to them." "Ah," said Isaac, "but Leonidas was a man of war and nothing else. You, however, know how to utilize the mind _and _the body. Our proverbial Persians wouldn't stand a chance." Bane smiled underneath his mask and said, "You flatter me, Isaac. I almost feel as if _you're _planning something." "You're my boss," said Isaac, "It's not like I could do anything to someone like you." "It would indeed be better for you to avoid my wrath," said Bane, "So as always, don't try anything." "You know me," said Isaac. He walked out of the room, and Bane interlocked his fingers in thought, as his impending quiet conquest loomed near.

At the same time as the gargantuan Mexican's brain raced through several different trains of thought, Dick and I were getting ready to train further, as his suit would be ready in only a few days. We headed into the Batcave, where Alfred stood by to inspect any possible injuries or pour us a hot cup of tea afterwards, specifically chamomile. "It's a way of bringing you down from the mountain of adrenaline to the valley of relaxation," Alfred had noted. While right now Alfred had nothing to do at the moment, however, he was reading a book on WWII as Mozart played through a pair of Skull Candy headphones (courtesy of Dick). Dick, meanwhile, took out his iPod and hooked it up to a speaker. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Oh," Dick said, "I'm, uh, putting on music." "Why?" I asked slowly. "Well," replied Dick, "we're about to engage in strenuous activity, and that always calls for music." "So, what's it going to be, then?" I asked, "Maroon 5, or something?" Dick turned, giving me a death glare and saying, "No. It's going to be something much better." He started playing the music.

I said, "What's this?" "Rapcore," said Dick. "I'm sorry?" I said. "It's metal and rap combined," said Dick, "I have some regular rap coming up, like Eminem, Jay-Z, Tupac, you know, the works." "Okay," I said, "I might be able to roll with this." We began with dummies, and as the pounding guitars and rough and rapid vocals blasted through the speakers, Dick almost seemed to fall into the music's rhythm, punching and kicking along with the drums. Eventually it switched to Without Me by Eminem, and his movements became more bouncy, with his head bobbing and his fists delivering quick jabs to more random spots. He began throwing in elbows and knees periodically, also in time with the beat, but always switching up the repertoire of moves. "Hey," I said after a while, "Take a break. I think I might like this." I started out. While the music helped a little bit, it wasn't nearly as effective for me as it was for him. I sighed and said, "Well, I guess it's not for everybody." "True," said Dick.

We went on to rope climbing, and this time, Dick had a pair of earphones and his iPod. He went up the rope in a motion almost as if it was an interpretive dance, which it might have been close to. I grabbed my phone, calling Lucius and saying, "Hey, man, I'm going to need an addition for Dick's suit." "What did you have in mind?" asked Lucius. "Could you install some kind of speaker in the headset?" I asked. "Sure," said Lucius. I turned, seeing Dick coming down faster than he'd gone up. "Alright, thanks," I said hurriedly, "I have to go right now. I'll see you later." Walking towards me and taking out the earphones, Dick said, "Who was that?" "It was a telemarketer," I said. Dick squinted for a few seconds, and I thought he would see through. Eventually, he said, "Okay. It would seem he wasn't as tenacious as other telemarketers I've come across." "Yeah," I said nervously. I stood still for a few seconds, until Dick said, "What are we waiting for? Let's keep going." With that, Dick walked to the center of the Batcave, and I followed.

For the next hour or two, Dick and I went at it, sparring and lifting and swinging. Afterwards, tea was made and all was quiet. Dick took a long swig of tea, heaving a long, contented sigh, and said, "Oh, that feels so good. I'm going to be sore tomorrow, but it'll be worth this." "Let's hope so," I said, drinking as well, "You know, it's interesting. We find out new things about each other every day." "That's what friends do, isn't it?" said Dick. I nodded, and we finished our tea silently.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: WHETHER YOU CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS AS I DO, KWANZAA, OR HANUKKAH, I SINCERELY HOPE THAT IT WAS A WONDERFULLY JOYOUS AND BLESSED OCCASION, AND THAT YOU'LL HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR AS WELL!


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX

After four days of intense training, Dick and I decided to rest a little bit, and as we munched on an ultimate meat pizza delivered from Pizza Hut, my phone buzzed. I looked at the text I had received, seeing it was from Lucius. "Hey, man," I said to Dick, "I think the suit's finished." "Why?" asked Dick. "Because Lucius says so," I said, showing Dick the text. Dick grinned widely, and he said, "Alright then! Let's go! And bring the pizza! I'm still hungry." I grabbed my keys and we hopped into the Maserati. Dick immediately started eating the rest of the pizza, and I joined in as we sped down the road. "Are we going to save any for Lucius?" asked Dick. I shook my head, taking a large bite out of the slice I was eating. "In that case," said Dick, grabbing his fourth slice, "The rest is yours." "Indeed," I said. As we pulled up to Lucius' place, Dick said, "Wait. We don't want Lucius to suspect anything." Suddenly, he let out a thunderous belch, saying, "That should do it. Your turn." I only managed a small one. "Ah," said Dick, "I guess it doesn't matter. That pizza was too good not to acknowledge its existence." I nodded, and we got out of the car, striding towards the front door.

We rang the doorbell, and we heard from inside, "It's unlocked! Come on downstairs!" We opened the door, proceeding towards the staircase. As we passed by the scanner, Dick said, "Hey, hey, the weak magic! I remember this well." I smiled, and we walked through the door to find Lucius standing beside something about Dick's size covered in a black cloth. He grinned widely, saying, "Well, you asked for it, and I delivered, and so now, I give you…" At the exact moment Lucius prepared to pull the cloth, I unintentionally released what might have been the burp of the century. It echoed across the cave-like room, not ceasing for an incredibly uncomfortable length of time. Dick patted my back, saying, "Well, now you can add this to you list of life achievements." "Not helping," I said. Lucius' hand had frozen a couple inches from the cloth, and he said, "Are you finished? Or do you need to expound anymore?" "I'm sorry," I said, "Carry on." Lucius sighed, muttering, "I had a great intro lined up, too." He grabbed the cloth and pulled it off the object underneath. Dick was open-mouthed, and I was just as amazed. "I love it!" said Dick, "And it'll even match my bike!" "His bike?" asked Lucius, confused. "It's a Kawasaki ZX-14," I said. Lucius nodded.

The suit looked amazing. The color scheme was red and black, with the yellow R on its right shoulder. The only part of Dick that would be exposed was his hair. Its head, forearms, fingers, lower legs, and back were all black. The rest was red. Dick walked towards it, running his fingers over the logo. Lucius smiled, saying, "What do you think?" "I think this will be perfect!" said Dick, "Can I try it on?" "Go ahead," said Lucius, "I'm sure you've been waiting long enough." He led Dick into a closed off section of the room where he could change. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet as Lucius approached me, saying, "I really thought you were more than a little reluctant to let him do this." "I still am," I said, "but I guess sometimes you have to realize: people grow up. They get stronger. And there's a point where you don't need to protect them." "Nonsense," said Lucius, "Dick will always need you there. He doesn't have many people by his side. And out of those few, you're the most important." I chuckled, saying, "I'd like to believe that, Lucius, I really would." "I'm sure," said Lucius, "So start believing it." I looked at the floor, lost in thought.

I heard from across the room, "Hello, world!" I looked up to see Di...um, Robin in his suit, in a fists-on-hips, legs spread wide, stereotypical superhero pose. "Nice," said Lucius, "Now, I added something to the suit by Bruce's request." "What?" asked Dick, standing normally, "Some kind of explosive failsafe? 'Cause I don't want something like that to malfunction when I'm in the suit." "No," said Lucius, laughing, "Nothing like that. Actually, it's something Bruce thought might help you in training and in the field. See that panel on your gauntlet?" Robin looked down to see a latch on his left arm. He lifted the lid it held in place, revealing a touch-screen panel. His eyes widened. He scrolled through the contents on the screen, saying with increasing excitement, "Linkin Park? Papa Roach? Hollywood Undead? Eminem? Jay-Z? These are some of my favorite artists! Thanks a lot, man! I really appreciate it!" "Wait, it took this for you to act even a smidge cordially?" I said. "It would seem," he said. I rolled my eyes, saying, "You're a piece of work." "And proud of it," Robin said.

Lucius folded his arms satisfactorily and said, "Alright, let's see how your mobility is affected." "Okay," said Robin, running at full tilt towards a far wall. He ran up the wall about five feet and jumped into a back-flip, sticking the landing and saying, "I think my mobility is fine." Clapping, Lucius said, "And also, you mentioned a motorcycle." "Yeah," said Robin. "Well," said Lucius, "I just happen to have a helmet for you. I figured you'd want it to match the suit." Lucius grabbed a helmet that had gone up until this point unnoticed. It was red with a black visor. "Awesome," said Robin, putting it on, "Oh, yeah, this'll work. Thanks." "Of course," said Lucius, "With that over and done with, I understand the Giants are going up against the Cowboys in a few minutes. I figure some football and hot wings is a good way to celebrate our new hero." "That sounds good," I said. Robin took off his helmet and said, "Let's do that, then. And I'm not taking this off." Laughing, Lucius said, "I wouldn't expect you to." And so, we headed upstairs to watch the game.

Three hours and a multitude of triumphant cheers and frustrated groans later, Robin and I said our goodbyes to Lucius and went out to the car. After entering, Robin said, "I guess you and I both will have to get used to this whole 'Robin' thing, huh?" "That's for sure," I said, "So remember, I'm never going to stop being nervous about you out there. So expect unwanted help." "I will," said Robin, "After all, I know you're just a big softie." Laughing, I said, "Really? 'Cause you know I can throw down! I wouldn't call me a softie." "I'm not you," said Robin, smiling, "I'm just someone who knows you well enough to make that call." Starting the car and shrugging, I said, "Okay. I admit it. I guess I can be a little soft. But Batman's pretty hardcore, right?" "Yeah," said Robin. "Then I'm satisfied," I said. We pulled out of the driveway, heading back towards Wayne Manor. The whole drive home, I thought about how happy Dick must've been, taking up the name of Robin. I just hoped he wouldn't get lost in the persona, as I'd been close to doing with Batman.

When we got back, Alfred, as always, was waiting, and he nodded approvingly at Dick's suit. "Very nice, Master Grayson," he said, "It seems to me you'll be having quite the adventures from here on out." "You can bet on it," said Dick. "Starting tonight," I said. Dick turned, with excitement in his eyes. "Do you mean what I think you mean?" "Yeah," I said, "So get ready…Robin." Robin nodded, grinning. "But remember," I said, "I'll be on your back the whole time. This is somewhat of an early outing for someone who's only been through a little over a week of training." "Okay," said Robin, "I can roll with that. So, what's going down?" I replied, "Bank robbery. They've got several hostages. The thing is, some genius killed the guy who knows the code to the vault. They'll have to break into it." Nodding, Robin said, "Giving us more time." "Right," I said, "Let's go." We ran to the Batcave. I quickly donned the Batman suit and jumped in the Batmobile, with Robin close behind. As we left, Robin turned on his music, and I noticed he started bobbing his head as we went down the road. I hoped it would help him.

When we arrived, I hopped out, and Robin got out right behind me. "Stay close," I said. Robin nodded. We had parked around the back, and I decided to utilize a gadget that Lucius had included in the suit. I took out a small sticky bomb, putting it on the wall in front of us. "Step back a little," I said calmly. "Where are we going in?" asked Robin. "Right next to the vault," I said. Three seconds after we got back a safe distance, the bomb exploded, and the wall crumbled, revealing two men in split-colored masks working on the vault. The explosion startled them, and one fumbled for his gun. I wrenched his wrist and punched him in the nose, knocking him down. The other had gotten his gun out, but Robin quickly and nonchalantly whacked him over the head with his staff. I nodded approvingly. I could tell Robin was smiling. We headed out into the spacious main room of the bank. I jumped over the counter where the tellers were cowering, and into a small brigade of the soldiers. They trained their guns on me. However, I still had tricks up my sleeve. I dropped a smoke grenade, dropping to the ground.

They immediately started firing through the smoke as I carefully skittered along the ground. I swept the leg of one soldier, who ended up smacking his head on the marble floor. He stirred slightly and drifted into unconsciousness. The soldier who had been next to him turned to where I was, and was about to fire. I couldn't dodge at that distance. But then I remembered…I had help. Robin, coming in almost as if he was dancing, struck the soldier several times with his staff and went back into the smoke. I smiled. He was good. But I had to stick close. So I rose to my feet directly in front of another soldier, kneeing him in the gut three times. He keeled over, and before the others had time to react, Robin and I took out the rest effectively. The smoke cleared, and we thought it was over. That is, until we noticed a handgun aimed towards us, held in a burnt hand. We heard the gunman say, "Batman. It's been a while. And who's your new friend?" I looked at the man's face, shocked. There in front of me stood Harvey Dent.

Robin said, "DENT?!" "Not anymore," said Dent, "It's White Knight now." Robin said, "That's more than a little cliché, if you ask me." White Knight shifted the grip on his gun, visibly irritated by Robin's remark. Gesturing with his head towards Robin, he said, "Seriously, who is this?" "This is Robin," I said. "Charmed," said Robin. "A sidekick," said White Knight, "Well, I guess it was inevitable." "I'm not a…" began Robin. I interrupted him, "Just ignore it. It'll happen a lot in your first few weeks. Trust me." Robin sighed, frustrated. "All right," he said. "You guys are good," said White Knight, "But did you really think that was all I had with me?" Suddenly, dozens more soldiers rushed through the door. White Knight smiled. A few seconds later, we heard footsteps. But they weren't from White Knight's soldiers. His eyes widened, and he turned, saying, "What are you doing here?" "I'm here to meet my enemy," said an unseen, deep, and heavily accented voice. Stepping into the bank, I saw him. The hulking man known as Bane. I didn't know who he was. But he knew me. "Leave him," said Bane, "I want to handle him myself." He cracked his knuckles and laughed.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER X

White Knight was clearly livid. His eyes were wide and his teeth were bared. He turned his attention away from Robin and I and lowered his gun, saying angrily, "This isn't your place! You're supposed to be handling..." He stopped and looked at us, catching himself before he revealed their plan. He finished, "Your side of the deal!" Bane huffed, saying disdainfully, "White Knight, you simply don't understand. I have my own army. And I am a leader. And leaders don't sit back and let his soldiers handle it all. He goes out onto the battlefield to increase morale and offer his fighting spirit." White Knight gestured towards himself with his gun, shouting, "BUT THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE! MY JOB!" Bane chuckled and said, "You sound like a child now, White Knight!" White Knight's face flushed, and he finally burst, "YOU #$% ING INSOLENT *%#!" Bane simply raised an eyebrow underneath his mask in response. For a few seconds, it was just the disciples with their guns trained on Robin and I with Bane and a heavily breathing White Knight on either side of them. It was all quiet.

The silence was unceremoniously broken by the sudden laughter of Robin, which was amplified by the acoustics in the bank. He kept laughing, doubling over. White Knight and Bane both quickly looked his way. White Knight said, "WHAT?!" Amid waves of mirthful laughter, Robin said, "One minute. Just give me a…" This was interrupted by even _more _laughter, and it was several more seconds before he recovered. White Knight had calmed down considerably since Robin had started, and it seemed all of the people in the lobby, the hostages and myself included, were waiting for Robin to state what had caused his laughing episode. There were even a couple of disciples checking their watches. Robin ended, and he said, "Now that…that is _exactly _how I imagine internet fights…in a bizarre way." One disciple stirred and said, "Wait, we're all prepared to shoot you in the face, and _that's _what you focus on." Robin nodded, crossing his arms as if he were right in his comfort zone. I was surprised as well, but Bane laughed and said, "What a remarkable young man. It's a shame he'll have to be taken care of." "That's not for you or me to decide, and you know it," said White Knight softly. Bane shrugged and said, "Whatever you say." White Knight was still aggravated.

Bane turned again to Robin and I, and he said, "As for you, the 'side of the deal' White Knight mentioned won't be foolishly revealed. We're more careful than that." "I figured," I said flatly. I added quietly, "Get behind me, Robin." He looked at me indignantly, saying, "What? Come on, I can handle thi…" "No, you can't!" I said, "This is worse than anything you've been up against. I told you to stay back when I said so, and you agreed. Now I'm saying to stay back!" Robin began, "But…" He lowered his head, and as he passed behind me, he gently squeezed my arm, as if to say, _don't leave me behind._ I gave him a look that said, _I won't; not ever._ I looked toward Bane and assumed a defensive stance. Bane simply clasped his hands behind his back, surveying me. "Stay out of my way, White Knight," he said, "I mean it." White Knight was about to protest when he got a call. He answered it. The side of the conversation we heard was, "What?...Yeah, we're experiencing conflict, but only because your Mexican friend here apparently doesn't like following…" He paused for a long time, and eventually looked down at the floor, continuing, "Alright…fine…fine, I'll let him." Seemingly begrudged, he hung up, and, turning away, he said, "All right, Bane, today's your lucky day. You get Batman. The disciples and I got what we came for, anyway." At that moment, several vans pulled up in front of the bank.

They opened up to reveal many more disciples, who were carrying several duffel bags, presumably full of cash. They had hit a different bank than the one we were in. As the rest of the disciples and White Knight piled in, White Knight turned to me and said, "Have fun." They sped off, leaving me with Bane. He closed the doors of the bank, locking them and wrenching the locks. He scanned the room, looking at each of the hostages in turn. He said, "All of you! I would retreat if I were you. This could get messy." "I'll drop you cold before it ever comes to that," I said. "Could you really?" said Bane. He turned to a stone pillar and grabbed it, yanking out a large chunk of solid marble. He wound up like a pitcher and tossed the rock at me like it was a baseball. I dove out of the way as the rock whizzed over my head, striking the counter behind me and embedding itself. If it had hit me, then I'm sure my head would at least get crushed. "Do you see how different we are now, Batman?" said Bane. "Differences can be advantages," I said. "In that case," said Bane, "the advantage is all MINE!" At that moment, he charged me.

I successfully jumped just before he hit me, vaulting over him using his back. He quickly stopped. I rapidly looked around the room to find Robin. I saw him behind the counter. He was safer than if he was with me, at least. Bane laughed loudly, and the sound echoed around the spacious lobby for several seconds. Eventually, he turned back around towards me and said, "I see now! This is a _toro lucha_, a bull fight, with you as the ornately clad, graceful _matador, _and I," he pounded his chest, "as the mighty bull you must stay!" I shrugged, still in my defensive position, saying, "Not quite what I was thinking, but whatever." Laughing yet again, Bane said, "Ah, I see you, as you Americans say, 'go with the flow'! An admirable quality! Any warrior who can quickly adjust on the battlefield to any scenario is one worthy of respect of the highest order. That is, of course, if he survives in the end. Otherwise he was an inexperienced fool. Let us both see which you are." He ran towards me with his fist raised high. I dodged it, ducking and delivering a quick punch to his kidneys. I cringed on impact. The muscles in his sides were so well-built and tightly packed that I might as well have been punching a brick wall.

We both turned after we reached opposite sides of the lobby, facing each other. "You know what?" I said, "I think this is more like jousting." I was pretending that my hand didn't hurt. But apparently my face or something else showed Bane otherwise. "You see?" said Bane proudly, "The very muscles of my body are enough to stay your hand!" "I don't just have hands," I said, pulling two very special gadgets out of my belt. They were two specially-built batarangs. I threw them both, and when they were within a foot of hitting his chest, Bane caught them both. I ran towards him simultaneously. "Is this really all you have to offer?" asked Bane mockingly, "Really, I expected more." "Did you take high school science?" I asked. "Yes," said Bane, puzzled. "Well, then you'll remember that metal is an excellent conductor," I said. At the moment those words exited my lips, the batarangs crackled to life in Bane's armored hands. The metal gauntlets he wore didn't help him. Too late he realized what I meant. The electric current produced by the batarangs was enough to bring Bane to his knees, where I was able to deliver a blow to his face. This time, his head went to the side with the force of the punch. I knew I couldn't stay close to him for too long, however. So I had to get away as fast as possible. As Bane was recovering, I jumped well out of his way.

Groaning, Bane slowly rose to his feet, rubbing the side of his face. He growled, saying, "I see you're not one to jest with! I believed this would be like swatting a fly. Apparently not. It would seem it will take more of my strength." My eyes widened at the realization that he'd only been toying with me. He swung his arms wide and swiftly brought his hands together, producing a thunderous sound. I grit my teeth, knowing I might not make it out here. I was so focused on taking down Bane at this point that I didn't know whether or not Robin was still there. He was still behind the counter, a detail I wasn't aware of. Bane stomped in front of himself, cracking the floor. I was nervous. I tried to hide it, and I guess I did it well, because Bane said, "So, not intimidated? Impressive. Most would quake at the sight of my power. But you are a warrior indeed. This will be even more fun than I thought." "We'll see," I said. Bane said no more, but instead strode towards me, seemingly unready for combat. I stayed where I was. Bane, walking towards me, said, "I think now, with all of our stops pulled, this will be the finale." I didn't respond. I was honestly more scared than ever as Bane approached me. I felt like death was hovering over me.

Bane was four feet from me now, and I took in for the first time in full his size. He was only about half a foot taller than me, but he was built like an ironclad. He had a regal air about him that seemed to be a veil behind which lied savagery and malice. Finally, he was right in front of me. Quickly, almost before I could jump out of the way, he threw a punch towards the ground. Fortunately, however, I did get out of the way, and Bane once again cracked the ground. His fist was momentarily stuck in the small crater he'd made. But all he had to do was extend his fingers. The stone gave way like snow with the force. He shook out his hand, saying, "Now, that actually stung a bit." Now I was terrified. I couldn't see a way out. Bane ran towards me, kicking forwards. I barely had time to move, and even then he struck my hand with his foot. I could feel it break. I yelled in pain. I was momentarily incapacitated, and Bane used the opportunity to take another swing at me. I tried to move, but his fist clipped my nose. That broke too, and blood flowed freely. I groaned this time, trying to stay alert.

Bane said, "Ah, the _matador _weakens. This is almost boring." I retreated to the opposite side of the room, trying to buy myself time. I ran underneath a balcony, firing a grappling hook, which caught the railing and pulled me up. I sat down hard behind the railing, looking over my shoulder at Bane below me. He simply stood there, staring up at me. "Take your time!" shouted Bane up to me, "I'm not in a rush! Come down when you want! I'll be waiting." I decided now was the time to push my luck. It was foolish. I see that now. The decision I made changed my life. I took two explosive batarangs from my belt, holding them both in one hand. I breathed deeply, thinking twice about what I was about to do. And I still went forward with it. I stood up, throwing one batarang at a pillar on Bane's left side and the other at the pillar to his right. Just as they were about to explode, I fired another grappling hook, which stuck in the ceiling and allowed me to swing down towards Bane. I planned to kick him in the face, hoping the shrapnel from the pillars would be enough to distract him.

I swung down, and I glanced over at the last second, seeing Robin, who was looking out from behind the counter. I realized the consequences this might yield in a matter of half a second, and then the batarangs detonated. I tried to kick Bane, but he grabbed my leg. He swung me towards a pillar. My eyes widened. My back struck the pillar. I felt terrible pain as I heard Robin yell in anguish. I landed hard on the ground. And darkness swallowed my vision.


End file.
